


In the Blind

by hope_savaria



Series: Don't Let Go [1]
Category: Gravity (2013), Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, Crossover, Danny Ocean is Matt Kowalski, Debbie Ocean is Ryan Stone, Debbie Pov, F/F, Family Drama, Lou is Houston, Minor Character Death, Near Death Experiences, Near Future, Peril, Pining, Pre-canon AU for Ocean’s 8, Suspense, Technobabble, more or less, space, this is Gravity but with the Ocean's Eight characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-28 15:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19397017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_savaria/pseuds/hope_savaria
Summary: Debbie doubted that space was really comfortable for anyone, but at least the rest of them wanted to be here, had trained for years to be part of the elite number to do this. That wasn’t her, and it was some sort of cruel and unusual punishment to be up here with Lou's voice in her ear and to not even be able to call her by her name. No, it had to be Houston. The same way she was Doctor or Mission Specialist Ocean. Oh, she hated it.She couldn’t deny that it was beautiful up here – really gorgeous in a way that she never imagined anything could be, not after…Well, she didn’t want to think about other the beautiful things she had seen, because they were gone now, and she would never, ever see them again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading my other WIP, you'll know that I had a serious phobia of space growing up, but Gravity has rapidly become one of my favorite films since I finally mustered the courage to watch it this year, and since I mostly write for Debbie/Lou, this just kind of happened. In my non-fanfiction life, I mostly write science fiction, so this was really fun to write something more sci-fi but with our Heist Wives at the heart of it. 
> 
> I found a copy of the Gravity script online, so any changes to the dialogue are entirely intentional.
> 
> I've never written crossover/AU before, but I was really inspired by some other Ocean's 8 AU works, namely AsterHowl's "Take A Bite" and blanchtt's "i carry your heart with me," which both showed me how fantastic AU can really be. This isn't really similar to either of those, but they certainly inspired me, and I would highly recommend those works/authors. 
> 
> As usual, much love to everyone writing for Debbie/Lou, and many thanks to my girlfriend (go_get_your_top_hat) for beta-ing and being wonderful. <3 <3 <3 <3

**Setting: the near future, 600 km above the surface of the Earth**

“…Medical is concerned about your ECG readings.”

“I’m fine…” Debbie cleared her throat to prevent the name she wanted to say from spilling from her mouth. “…Houston.”

“Well, Medical doesn’t agree, _Doctor_.” The emphasis on the word made Debbie wince. She was glad the spacesuit blocked most of her facial expressions from the view of anyone else. “Are you feeling nauseous?”

“Not any more than usual, _Houston_.” She matched the emphasis. Two could play at this game. _Two have been playing this game for a very long time._ She cleared her throat. “Diagnostics are green. Link to communication card ready for data reception…” Debbie tried to focus on the panel in front of her as she spoke and not on anything else – tried to ignore the vast emptiness around her, which made its presence known despite its vacuity. She doubted that space was really comfortable for anyone, but at least the rest of them wanted to be here, had trained for _years_ to be part of the elite number to do _this_. That wasn’t her, and it was some sort of cruel and unusual punishment to be up here with _her_ voice in her ear and to not even be able to call her by her name. No, it had to be _Houston_. The same way she was _Doctor_ or _Mission Specialist Ocean_. Oh, she hated it. “If this works,” Debbie said, trying to lighten her own mood, “When we touch down tomorrow, I’m buying you a round of drinks.”

“Just me, or—?”

“ _All_ of you, Houston,” Debbie replied coldly. _Fuck you, Lou. Seriously. Fuck you._ This was stressful enough without the goddamn flirting. “Booting comms card now. Please confirm link.”

“Negative.”

“Standby…”

If someone had told Debbie a year ago that she would be in space, tethered to the Hubble Space Telescope in orbit around the Earth, she would have laughed at them. If someone had told her a year ago that she would be in space with her brother, she would have laughed and then asked how they knew she had a brother since she hadn’t spoken to him – or about him – in well over a decade. If someone had told her a year ago that she would be in space with her estranged brother and the voice of her _ex_ – though really there should be a question mark after that word – in her ear, then she would have stopped laughing and begun to consider the idea that the person telling her all of these impossible possibilities might be describing Debbie’s own personal version of hell. She couldn’t deny that it was beautiful up here – really _fucking_ gorgeous in a way that she never imagined anything could be, not after…Well, she didn’t want to think about other the beautiful things she had seen, because they were gone now, and she would never, ever see them again. But the view up here _was_ incredible, and if she were a different person, she would probably appreciate it.

“Houston, I have a bad feeling about this mission.” _Well, fuck you, too, Danny_ , Debbie thought as his voice crackled through the radio. She took a deep breath and tried to ignore her nausea, which seemed to be increasing ten-fold as Danny launched into yet another of his boring and vaguely sexist stories. Debbie focused on the comms panel in front of her. This – at least – she understood. She could take comfort in that. For years now, she had made medical engineering her life, and what was the difference between a robot for an operating room and a robot for a space telescope? Not much, it turned out, and that’s why they had called her. That’s why she was here.

“We’re going to miss you, Danny.” Lou’s – no, _Houston’s_ – voice cut across the music Danny was playing through his radio. Something about the way the two of them were chummy with each other…well, it didn’t improve Debbie’s nausea, that was for sure.

“Comms card reboot in progress,” Debbie said, interrupting the banter.

“Thank you, Doctor.” At least Lou wasn’t teasing her now, Debbie thought. Maybe she was being too hard on her. Their separation had been _far_ from one sided, and recent months had been…different. Debbie shook those memories away for the time being, even though they made her stomach flip in a more pleasurable way. _No distractions_.

“…How are you feeling?” Debbie wished they – Lou – would just stop _asking_ her that. She had said the word “fine” so many times over the past week that it was starting to lose all its meaning and sound unfamiliar.

“…Let’s just finish this.” Debbie swallowed hard. “Card is up.”

“Negative.”

And…

“Negative.” Then, a few minutes later: “Engineering admits that you warned us that this could happen.” Debbie _had_ warned them that the issue might be from the panel itself rather than the card. She had _warned_ them, but they hadn’t listened, not really. Or maybe they couldn’t listen, because she was the “expert,” and being an expert was lonely sometimes because her words didn’t seem to mean much to anyone else. “That’s as close to an apology as you’re going to get…We should have listened to you.” Debbie wondered if Lou was still talking about the panel at all anymore, but the double-speak would have to do for now. They couldn’t speak plainly on the record. 

“I’m on it,” Debbie said, keeping her voice even, but trying to sound reassuring all the same. And so, she kept working and tried to ignore Lou and Danny and all of them.

“Am I a go to assist Deb – I mean, _Doctor_ Ocean – in removing the panel?” Danny’s question came as a surprise.

“Assistance appreciated,” Debbie answered without really thinking about it.

“Mind if I join the fun?” Danny sounded almost familial. “How you feeling?”

“Like a Chihuahua that’s being tumble-dried.” He laughed at her description, and she smiled. It was weird, but not _bad_ , and when it came down to it, he _was_ helping. She was grateful.

“You’re the genius up here. I only drive the bus,” he said. That was almost _nice_ , Debbie thought. Maybe there was a small part of her that regretted the years they had spent apart. Nothing like being on the edge of oblivion to make you appreciate the things she might change given a time machine or a lot more years to live. 

“ _Explorer_ , this is Houston…” Lou’s voice cut through Debbie’s combined musings on the panel and on Danny. “…debris orbiting at twenty-thousand miles per hour…does not overlap with your trajectory. We’ll keep you posted on any developments.”

Danny said not to worry, but it had been a long time since his voice carried reassurance. She was out of her depth. Debbie felt her heart beat faster and knew that it wasn’t just from the zero-G. She tried to relax by answering Danny’s questions about her tech. This is what she knew best, after all. This was _her_ work here, floating six-hundred kilometers above the surface of the Earth, and she was – though there wasn’t much emotion behind the sentiment – _proud_ of it.

“You gotta admit one thing,” Danny said, “Can’t beat the view.”

Debbie felt her mouth twitch in spite of herself. _You really_ can’t _beat the view._

“So, what do you like about being up here?”

“The silence,” Debbie answered, probably too quickly. She grinned somewhat abashedly at herself. “I could get used to it.”

“Terrific,” Danny agreed. They kept working, and though Debbie’s stomach churned and there was a dull pounding in her temples, she felt her heart lift at the idea that maybe – just _maybe_ – Danny might forgive her. Maybe Lou would, too. And maybe she would forgive each of them, too. Maybe. For the first time in a week (and really, it had been much, _much_ longer than that), Debbie felt like she might actually be in control. Then – of course – Danny began telling another stupid story – Mardi Gras this time – and God, Debbie just wanted him to shut _up_. She was just starting to like him again, and this story was headed towards both sexism _and_ homophobia, which was the _last_ thing she needed right now on so many levels.

“ _ISS_ , this is Houston… _Explorer_ , this is Houston.” Lou’s voice carried a note of urgency, though Debbie wasn’t sure if anyone else heard it. She was momentarily relieved that Lou had interrupted Danny’s story, but then…“Mission abort. Mission abort…”

 _Shit_. Debbie couldn’t think of very many situations where those words were a comfort, and none of them involved spacewalking six-hundred kilometers above the Earth. And oh, she was _so_ close to getting this _right_ , to installing _her_ comm card _here_ on the Hubble, and then she would really, _truly_ have something to be proud of instead of just memories and a few decent articles in academic journals that no one ever read.

“One second…” she muttered.

“Not one second,” Danny’s voice was firm. “ _Now_. Shut it down. That’s an order!”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” She meant it. “I’m done.” Debbie could almost feel Danny’s frustration, and Lou’s, too. She focused her mind back on the task at hand and on the news coming in from Houston.

“…Most of our systems are gone. Debris chain reaction is out of control and rapidly expanding…satellites…keep on falling…expect a communication blackout at any moment.” The angle of the robotic arm transferring her back to the _Explorer_ allowed her to see a different sector of Earth’s orbit. Debbie noticed a glittering iridescence in the distance that wasn’t stars, and she felt a wave of dread. 

“Visual of debris at nine o’clock,” Debbie said Her voice was calm despite the fact that she was getting more and more frustrated by the agonizingly slow speed of the transfer back to the shuttle. 

The transmissions form Houston were becoming increasingly garbled, and it was strange to think that if this all went south, this would be the last time Debbie heard Lou’s voice. She was far too focused on the deadly pieces of shrapnel flying past – and on the fact that she _really_ needed this arm to move faster – to register any emotion about never hearing that voice again. The idea was interesting, and maybe later she would feel something about it – either when she was safe or at her actual moment of death. She would have to wait and see. 

“Doctor Ocean requesting faster transport,” she said, a hint of urgency creeping into her tone. She waited as long as she could bear and then said it again. “ _Explorer_ , do you copy?” she added.

“ _Explorer_ , permission to retrieve Doctor Ocean?” Danny asked, but he was already headed in her direction. Oh, it would be fucking poetic if he saved her life.

“We’ve lost Houston. We’ve lost Houston.” The words cut across everything else. _Bye, Lou. Nothing else to say, but—_

“Unstrap!” Danny’s voice interrupted her momentary lapse of concentration.

“All right.” Debbie _was_ trying, but nothing was working, and the debris was getting thicker. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a large piece of debris smash into Shariff close to the shuttle. It should have shaken her, to watch his moment of death, but Debbie just kept working on the latch of her tether as gaping wounds appeared in the side of _Explorer_. Suddenly, everything shifted. The robotic arm was adrift – spinning out of control, no longer attached – or perhaps barely attached. She wasn’t sure. All Debbie knew was that she was spinning – Earth and stars and the foundering shuttle flashing before her eyes. _So, this is it, then_. _Okay._

“Detach!” Danny yelled. “Detach!”

“I can’t,” she yelled back. She heard an instinctual whine in her voice, but really, she felt pretty resigned to her fate. She would spin until she blacked out and then gradually die in her sleep. That was practically peaceful compared to how Shariff had gone mere seconds ago. Somehow though, her voice and her hands were still betraying her will to survive. “Okay, I’m trying!” She said, “I’m trying.” And somehow, she was, as her hands scrabbled over the clip at her belt.

 _My own personal hell_ , Debbie thought as she broke free at last and careened away from the arm, from the remnants of the _Explorer_ , from _everything_. No up. No down. But Earth was there…below? Above? It was too confusing. She thought she might actually be sick, but her body seemed to know better than to vomit, stubbornly keeping her in some sort of parody of homeostasis – purgatory, perhaps. Spinning, spinning, spinning. _No, make it stop! Just make it stop!_

“Do you copy?” Oh, Danny. 

“Yes, yes, yes. I copy!” Debbie didn’t even know why she was responding.

“Report your position.”

“Spinning…GPS is down…I can’t—”

“…a visual?”

“…nothing. I see nothing!”

“You need to focus!”

“It’s so fast. I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!” Obviously, _that_ was a lie, because she was still _talking_. Lying used to be her game, but even if she was still good at it, Danny – of all people – would see through it. _Fuck_ him. But some part of her still wanted to live, it seemed, which was simultaneously comforting and annoying. She focused on the illuminated gauges on the inside of her helmet: LOW OXYGEN 10%; LIFE SUPPORT BATTERY 42%. There was a bright light shining in the distance behind everything. “Lieutenant, do you copy?” She stammered in spite of herself. “I h…have a visual of _Explorer_. With north at…twelve o’clock and the shuttle is at the center of the dial. I can see…I can see the Chinese station. No…no, it’s the _ISS_. _ISS_ is at seven o’clock.”

There was nothing but silence in response to her chatter.

“Lieutenant Ocean, do you copy?” she repeated.

Nothing. Nothing, except that she was still _spinning_. She felt entirely removed from her body as if she were watching herself tumbling through space with Earth a glowing, tantalizing ball of safety beside her – unreachable.

“ _Explorer_ , do you copy? Houston…” She swallowed Lou’s name along with the bile in her throat. This was still on the record, after all. “ _Houston_ , do you copy. This is Mission Specialist Debbie Ocean. I am off structure, and I am drifting. Do you copy?” She could hear the whine in her voice again, the instinctual plea. “Anyone…? Do you copy? Please copy. Please.” _Please, if only to stop my wandering thoughts._ It was quiet except for her panicked breaths.

“Doctor Ocean, do you copy?” Relief met panic in equal measure in Debbie’s chest as Danny’s voice fizzled through the radio at last.

“Yes, I copy.” She flashed her light. Maybe, just _maybe_ …

“Report your status.”

“I’m _fine_.” There was that word again.

“…your _readings_.”

Debbie looked at the flashing numbers. Her mind felt slower than her normal. “Uh…oxygen is going down fast.”

“You’re breathing too fast. We want to relax. Copy?”

 _Easier said than done_ , Debbie thought. _And why do you sound so relaxed, you space freak?_ “Okay, sorry,” she said aloud. “I copy.” He collided into her a second later, and for a minute they tumbled over and over. Her heart beat faster despite her attempts to calm herself. The spinning was the worst part – _definitely_ the worst part.

“I’m gonna tether you to me,” he said firmly. “I know you never realized how much you missed me. But I need you to stop staring and help me with the tether. Okay?”

“Okay.” She injected some ice into her tone. This wasn’t the time for jabs about familial reconciliation.

“Here we go. I’m gonna give you a little push…a nudge.”

“No. No, no, no.” She was _not_ looking forward to more spinning. “Damn it, no!” He pushed off her, and Debbie saw the flare of his jet pack as she careened away. There was a sharp tug that alerted her to the fact that his plan _had_ worked. She was tethered to him now, but she didn’t have to like it. “God _damn_ it.”

“You’re burning oxygen,” he warned. 

“Fuck!”

“Copy that,” he replied coolly. “Houston, in the blind. This is Lieutenant Danny Ocean. The Doctor and I are making our way back to _Explorer_ …”

“She…” Debbie corrected herself quickly. “ _…They_ can’t hear us.”

“We don’t know that…we keep talking.” The debris would be back in ninety minutes, which – right now – seemed like both an eternity and a mere blink of an eye. What could they really do in ninety minutes? The only things that seemed certain were the numbers and gauges flashing on the inside of her visor. 

“O2 down to six percent,” she muttered.

“Pretty scary shit, huh?” Danny commented.

“Yeah,” she agreed, “Pretty scary shit.”

“You did alright.”

“You weren’t so bad.” And if that was the end of it, it would be enough, Debbie decided. Still, the tether was becoming a comfort, and maybe they _would_ get out of this. They inched back towards the _Explorer_ , watching the rubble take shape before them. 

Shariff’s body was still attached to a panel, drifting a little way off the main structure of the shuttle. Debbie crashed into it – into _him_ , and oh, God, maybe she _did_ still have a heart. There was a hole through is helmet – through his face – making him entirely unrecognizable but for the picture tethered to his suit, floating in the void. It showed a happy family: Shariff with his wife and son. For a split second, Debbie remembered a similar photo: herself, a little girl with brown hair, and _Lou_ – the three of them bathed in sunlight. For a split second, Debbie was back there, feeling the warmth of the two bodies next to her – the two people she loved most in the world. Then the world resolved back into panic once more, sunlight dissolving in her mind’s eye faster than the declining oxygen in her suit.

“O2 down to five percent,” Debbie said quietly, voice barely above a whisper. They were moving again. Danny was pulling her and the body of Shariff back to the shuttle. It was the least they could do, and checking for survivors was par for the course – she knew that. There was dread in her stomach again as she saw the broken window of the shuttle cockpit. Little mementos from Earth – from _home_ – floated around them and out towards the stars. Corpses bounced around the semi-enclosed space, and Debbie tried not to look at their faces. She felt utterly numb.

“Houston, in the blind.” Debbie anchored herself to Danny’s voice. “To confirm. Mission Specialist Doctor Ocean and Mission Commander Danny Ocean…are the _sole_ survivors of the STS-157.”

“I apologize for not complying earlier,” Debbie said, pushing herself towards where he was tethered to the shuttle.

“We were gonna get hit no matter what.” He sounded sincere, and she accepted the words. “We have to make our way to the _ISS_.” He gestured in the direction of the light in the distance. “We need to use their escape pod. Agreed?”

_You’re the expert, Danny._

“ _Agreed_ , Doctor?” He prompted again.

“Agreed.”

Danny kept talking to her, to Houston – it didn’t really matter. They were floating over West Asia now. Debbie could see the Red Sea gradually beginning to shine with the rising of the sun behind them. Music floated through her helmet as Danny cued up his Hank Williams, Jr. for the umpteenth time. She didn’t mind so much this time; at least it gave her brain something to think about apart from the rapid decline of her O2 levels.

“Beautiful, don’t you think? The sunrise?” Danny said. “That’s what I’m gonna miss the most.” Debbie hoped he was referencing the fact that this was his final mission, not the fact that – more than likely – there wouldn’t be any more sunrises for them up here _or_ down below. “Where’s home for you now?” He asked. “ _Debbie_ , where’s home?”

“Home?” she mused. Debbie wasn’t sure if she knew anymore, but: “Lake Zurich, Illinois,” she said. Was that still true? Did it even matter anymore? She had stayed there after Lou had left, unable to leave. She liked the research position at the hospital (as much as she liked anything these days), but she didn’t _need_ it anymore. Moreover, they didn’t need her anymore, either. She had left after the call from NASA eight months ago, and she was sure they were getting along just fine without her. She had nothing to go home to in Illinois, not really. The realization scared her more than anything else so far today, which was really saying something. She didn’t want to share her thoughts with Danny, couldn’t bring herself to bear the burden of his sympathy. “I’m not gonna make it,” Debbie said instead. She gestured to the tether between them, but she was talking about life back in Illinois, too. “I’m slowing you down.”

“What would you be doing back home? It’s eight o’clock in Illinois,” Danny persisted. “You've just left the hospital…driving home.”

Debbie thought about it for a minute. “The radio,” she said finally. “I listen to the radio. Anything as long as they don’t talk. I just drive…I just…drive.” She heard her voice become a little strangled. The adrenaline coursing through her body was making it difficult for her to feel her emotions, but the despair was still there under everything. It made her voice shake. 

“What do you miss? Anyone…?”

“No.” Debbie knew she answered too quickly. 

“Nobody special? Somebody thinking about you? Debbie?”

Debbie sighed. He wasn’t going to give it a rest, so she might as well say _something_. “I… _we_ …we had a daughter. Me and…and my wife…” She spoke slowly, deliberately leaving out Lou’s name. It was too _weird_ that he knew her, and besides, this _was_ on record even if no one was listening. “We…uh…There was new research going on at my hospital – they took cells from both of us, and…well, _we_ had a daughter. She had our daughter.” These were things she preferred not to talk about, and it didn’t make it easier that the fact she hadn’t shared any of this with him had to be a bit of a blow.

“Does that make me an uncle?” Debbie could hear his good-natured grin.

“She was four,” Debbie went on, because she couldn’t stop _now_ , couldn’t leave him hoping, even now. Was that cruel? She wondered vaguely, but she didn’t linger on the thought. “She was at school playing tag,” Debbie continued. “Slipped, hit her head, and…that was it…Stupidest thing. I was driving when I got the call, so…that’s what I do…I just drive.” _And then everything fell apart_ , Debbie thought to herself. _Lou…Lou left_. But she couldn’t tell him, not unless he asked, and she had a feeling he wouldn’t. The story was always more than what people bargained for. “O2 down to one percent,” she added quietly.

Debbie heard Danny exhale his pity. He was silent for many long minutes, probably digesting her words. When he finally spoke, his tone was good humored. “Well, I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is, we’re about five minutes from the _ISS_ , and I know where the Russians stash their vodka. And that is good, because I’m running on fumes here. The bad news is, I’m gonna be about ten minutes short of breaking Anatoly’s spacewalking record, and I—”

An alarm cut through his meaningless babble, and Debbie felt her heart rate – which she was so _desperately_ trying to keep steady – increase once more. “I’m redlining,” she informed him, “O2 tank pressure is low…”

“You still have it in your suit…you have to sip, not gulp—”

“Got it.”

“Wine, not beer,” Danny added. Debbie managed not to roll her eyes at him, not that he could see her face anyway.

They approached the _ISS_ , assessing the remaining Soyuz escape pod. The surface damage – to her inexpert eye – looked extensive, and – as Danny was confirming over the radio – its already-deployed parachute meant that there was no way to use it for re-entry. _So,_ this _is it_ , Debbie thought. All of that drifting, and now, they couldn’t get home anyway. They could get inside – _maybe_ , if they were lucky – but then there would be nothing to do but drink vodka and die.

“Shouldn’t we be turning? We’re drifting again,” Debbie noted dully.

“These jets only have one or two good thrusts left…if we’re lucky,” Danny explained, gesturing to his jetpack. “Steady,” he went on, before she could respond. “Aim.” Debbie braced herself as well as she could in zero-G. “Fire!”

The jolt was sudden and uncomfortable, and the hard exterior of the _ISS_ was suddenly far too close for comfort. “Brake!” she yelled.

“I can’t! Grab a hold of anything you can!”

“What do I _do_?” Debbie grasped at a railing.

“ _Debbie_!” She looked up to see him careening towards her, and she knew there was no way she would hold on if they collided. And then…he fell past her, and she watched the tether between them snap as if in slow motion – another nail in the coffin.

“I’m detached!” She figured it was better to let him know.

“Grab anything!”

The Soyuz parachute was all Debbie could see, and she grasped at the rigging desperately. The gloves of her spacesuit weren’t made for dexterity, but eventually she stopped moving with the straps tangled around her legs.

“Debbie! Give me five!” Danny reached out, flying – or falling – towards her.

“I’ve got you.” But did she _really_? She grasped at his tether, but she felt the rigging around her leg shift as Danny’s mass pulled her towards him away from her only anchor point.

“Shit!” It was the first time he had really sounded urgent, and it calmed her to know that even Danny was terrified, though he was hiding it under good humor and stupid stories.

“No!” Debbie yelled, wrapping her hand more tightly around Danny’s tether as it made a move to slip away from her. She hung on and looked directly at him, floating twenty yards away. “I’ve _got_ you,” she said, and she really believed it this time. “I’m gonna start pulling you in.”

“Hey, Doctor…”

“Just hold _on._ I’m gonna pull you in. _I’m gonna pull you in_.” Debbie didn’t much care if she survived this, and she wasn’t entirely sure why her body still seemed to be making an effort to do so, but letting go of Danny now – letting him _die_ – wasn’t an option. She had enough regrets with him, and she wasn’t interested in having his blood on her hands.

“Debbie, listen. You have to let me go.”

“No.”

“I’m pulling you with me.”

“ _No_.” Debbie saw his hands move to the clip of his tether, the only thing holding him to her. _Don’t you_ dare _do it, asshole_ , Debbie thought. _You_ fucking _idiot_. “No, no, no.”

“You have to let me go, or we both die.”

“I’m not letting you go! We’re fine.”

“No. Debbie, let go.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Debbie said breathlessly, unsure whether the waver in her voice was from emotion or lack of oxygen – probably both. 

“It’s not up to you,” Danny said firmly, starting to unclip the tether.

“Please, don’t do this. Please no. Please _don't_ , Danny. No.”

“You’re gonna make it, Debs.” Danny let go of the clip, and the nickname felt like a knife through Debbie’s heart. She was sure the last time she had heard it was from Lou’s lips. She and Danny were the only ones who had ever used it, separately of course, because they never knew one another back then. It was just an odd coincidence that they’d each settled on it. And now it meant _everything_ to hear it, but she couldn’t quite take it in as she and Danny drifted apart at last. 

“No!” The reality and finality of what had happened caught up with her. She was floating towards the _ISS_ now, pushed back by her body’s reaction to Danny’s release. “I _had_ you,” she gasped. “I had you.” Debbie grabbed onto _something_ as she collided with the station, but she didn’t look to see what it was. Her eyes were fixed on the rapidly diminishing figure of Danny. She was barely aware of another alarm blaring through her suit.

“Debbie, do you copy?” It was both cruel and comforting that she could still hear him.

“My CO2 alarm went off,” she informed him, reading the blinking alert.

“You _need_ to board the station. Look for the airlock.” Debbie twisted her neck, searching for the telltale circle, but her head was spinning and there was a blurriness at the corners of her eyes. She kept looking, though, because he told her to. Finally, her eyes landed on the airlock.

“I see it.”

“You’re breathing CO2…losing consciousness. You _need_ to board the station.”

“Okay.” _Goddamn you, Danny._ She couldn’t deny a dying man his last request.

“Look to the west,” Danny said. Debbie looked. “You see that dot in the distance? That’s a Chinese station. Take the second Soyuz, cruise over there. Chinese lifeboat is a Shenzhou.”

“I’ve…I’ve never flown a Shenzhou.” Debbie could hear the breathlessness in her voice again.

“Doesn’t matter. Its re-entry protocol is identical.”

“Only flew…a simulator…crashed it…every time. I crashed it _every time_.” It was becoming more difficult to talk now.

“It’s not rocket science. You’re gonna get back home.”

Home to what? Illinois? Lou? Debbie didn’t know what home _was_ anymore, so how could she _want_ it? All she had was the tiny speck that was Danny drifting away. “I’m coming to get you,” she muttered.

“No, you’re _not_. I’m afraid that ship already sailed. Learn to let go, Debs.”

“But I—”

“Say you’re gonna make it.”

“I’m gonna make it.” She could say it. She didn’t have to believe it. He only asked her to _say_ it, and she knew how to find loopholes. Danny knew better than anyone that her past had taught her that above anything else. He was asking her to say it for his sake, Debbie thought, not hers. 

“Are you close to the airlock?”

“Not yet.” Her limbs seemed to be moving even more slowly than normal zero-G speeds. The scientist part of Debbie’s brain recognized that the CO2 must really be getting to her, but the pain of it hadn’t sunk in yet, so she kept climbing.

“Keep going,” Danny told her. He paused, and she heard him breathe slowly and deeply before he spoke again. “Now that we have some distance between us,” he said, and Debbie could hear a grin in his voice even now. “You’ll tell them we made up right?”

“Who?”

“You know.”

“Everyone’s gone, Danny. We’re it.” _I’m it, now._

He was silent for a moment, taking that in. “Would’ve liked to meet your wife, you know.”

“You did,” Debbie admitted. She didn’t have the energy to hold in the secret any longer.

“What?”

“It’s _Lou_ , Danny.” Debbie almost smiled at the look she could imagine crossing his face right now. “Well, it _was_ Lou.” 

“Houston’s Lou? Was that the girl you were with all those years ago, too?”

“Yeah,” Debbie confirmed, and added, “Small world.”

“You two must have quite a story.”

“You _could_ say that,” she agreed.

“Wow. Hey, Debs?”

“Yeah?”

“You should see the sun on the Ganges,” Danny said, his voice full of genuine awe. “It’s amazing.”

Debbie felt her mouth twitch into half of a smile. There was a cryptic apology in there somewhere, she was sure, and telling him about Lou had been hers. She heard Danny’s music filter through the speakers in her helmet. The conversation was over, and he had told her to keep climbing to the airlock, so she did. Hand over hand. Foot over foot. On and on and on. Danny was barely a dot in the distance, floating behind the illuminated gauges on her visor, all of which were flashing critical levels. The airlock was the same as _Explorer_ ’s, and Debbie began the release sequence as red spots popped in front of her eyes. She knew she had minutes – maybe even seconds – but she didn’t hurry.

The release of the airlock shot a jolt of adrenaline through her system. The possibility of oxygen was close now, and her survival instinct was still strong despite _everything_. She scrambled inside and hung for a second, unsure of whether she could make it to the handle in the corner that would pressurize the module. Slowly – as if she had years to live rather than moments – Debbie floated to the other side of the chamber and powered up the life support. Light and air rushed in, and she waited in her suit until she couldn’t stand it anymore, until she had to feel the air on her skin even if it wasn’t yet warm enough to keep her alive.

Debbie removed her helmet and breathed deeply, as she had been taught. It hurt – everything hurt. Her spacesuit felt like a cage, and she couldn’t rid herself of it fast enough. She didn’t bother to hang up the pieces on the hooks and battery packs lining the walls, didn’t bother to even look around to confirm that the _ISS_ was stable. She stretched her back as the last of the suit fell away, the air cold – but warming – against her skin. Relaxing at last, Debbie curled in on herself, floating with her eyes closed. The whirring of the station’s life support system calmed her nerves, as though she was being held in a kind of womb. It was dark behind her eyelids, and she breathed into the stillness…

**

For seconds that contained eternities, Debbie thought of nothing but her breath. Thoughts ran through her mind like water – insubstantial. Eventually, logic and reason began to catch up, ordering the ideas into something more tangible – flashes of what had happened. Danny’s face stood out to her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen it – probably right before he released his tether, but that had been distant and vague through the barrier of both his visor and her own. She pictured him on the _Explorer_ – always the one to keep people laughing, but the stalwart veteran all the same. He was comfortable in space, still excited to spacewalk after all these years, and he probably couldn’t have imagined dying anywhere except up here.

Debbie remembered the younger Danny, too. That was the Danny she really knew – her partner in crime, _literally_. They had run some truly beautiful jobs together in Reno and Atlantic City, before Danny decided that he wanted to fly. She had resented him for leaving, and resented him even more when he actually achieved his dreams. By that point her own exploits had gotten a bit stale, and rigging Bingo in New Jersey just wasn’t cutting it. She and Danny had drifted apart and stopped talking. He didn’t want to keep telling her to play it safe, and she didn’t want to keep hearing it. Eventually, she and Lou had decided together to get out – to get clean and actually do something with their degrees before their FBI files got any thicker – but even then, Debbie didn’t reach out to Danny. She regretted that. She regretted that over their past – last – week together, she had kept her distance. She regretted flashing her light to show him her position earlier. If he hadn’t come to get her in the first place, he might have made it. He deserved to make it. He had things to live for. 

Debbie squeezed her eyes more tightly shut as an unbidden image of Shariff’s mangled face popped into her mind. And that photo…that photo of his family made it much, much worse. Shariff had been kind, appreciative of her work, understanding. He had been the closest thing to a friend on the _Explorer_ , and it had been comforting to talk with someone who was truly a colleague without the added baggage of being her estranged brother or her until-a-few-months-ago-estranged wife, whose voice crackled over the radio far too often for comfort.

 _Lou_. Her brain had reached _her_ at last. Debbie understood why Lou had needed to leave Illinois, why she had _needed_ to take that job in Houston no matter if it meant leaving the place where their daughter had died. She _truly_ understood now, and she was sorry. At the same time, she knew her own reasons for needing to stay. There hadn’t been any question, not back then. Now? Well, she probably wouldn’t get a chance to live any of it out, so there was no real harm in ruminating on it for a moment while her body recovered from the oxygen deprivation.

Lou hadn’t asked anything of her when they met again in Houston six months ago. They hadn’t said much of anything at all – not in words, anyway. Instead, they collided. They collided back into one another five years, eight months, and twelve days after the birth of their daughter. Debbie knew because she kept track, and maybe Lou did, too, but she hadn’t said, and Debbie hadn’t asked. Lou was there when the astronaut training got hard. Lou was there when Debbie just needed to get out of her apartment and do _something_. And for the last few months, Lou was _there_ – in Debbie’s apartment, in Debbie’s bed. They had cried together, but they hadn’t talked. And Lou never asked her, never asked Debbie if they could _really_ try again. Debbie had been grateful to have some time and distance (six-hundred-kilometers-above-the-Earth-type distance) to think about what she would say if Lou _did_ ask. She also wondered what Lou would say if _she_ asked, and she was pretty sure she knew. There was a glimmer of hope in Lou’s eyes when she looked at Debbie, and that was _something_.

**

Debbie blinked her eyes open and uncurled her body. _Okay_ , she thought, _Here I am_. _What’s next?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her mind – brilliant, people said – was what had gotten her into this mess to begin with. That’s why they’d called her for this mission, and now her brain wouldn’t even give her the mercy of a peaceful death. Debbie’s lungs burned, but Danny had wanted her to try...and maybe a part of her still wanted to try, too. 
> 
> Okay, Debbie thought, Let’s do this. Let’s go home.

“Houston, in the blind,” Debbie said slowly and carefully, determined to get this right. She stared out of the window towards Earth, registering her own reflection in the glass, though she was far too dissociated with her body to really recognize herself. “This is Mission Specialist Debbie Ocean reporting from the _ISS_. All communications with Mission Commander…Danny Ocean have been lost. Radio transmission absent. Visuals nonexistent.” She swallowed hard over the words. “To confirm, I, Debbie Ocean, am the sole survivor of STS-157.” Her voice almost cracked on the final syllable, but she didn’t have time to think about it. An alarm made her jump before the sentiment really hit her. _What now?_

A laptop by the door to the communications room was blinking urgently, the word FIRE flashing in red across the screen. _Shit._ The computer indicated a quickly spreading blaze, and Debbie ripped the headset from her ears and grabbed a fire extinguisher instead. The flames were already licking through the corridors she’d passed through minutes before, and it took her only seconds to reach the edge of the blaze. Without thinking, she undid the safety on the extinguisher and pulled the trigger.

For a moment, everything went black, and then she came to with a pounding in the back of her head. _Fuck_. She’d forgotten that the thrust of the fire extinguisher would be more than enough to knock her into a wall. It seemed however, that she had lost only a few seconds of time. She aimed the extinguisher towards the billowing flames, secured her feet in place under a bar on the wall, and pulled the trigger a second time. The flames dimmed briefly, but then surged forward once more, and Debbie gave up her feeble attempts to extinguish the fire. She fled – fire extinguisher in hand – down unfamiliar corridors, hoping against hope that the second Soyuz capsule hadn’t already burned to a crisp. And then there it was in front of her: the door. She climbed through it and shut the outer and inner hatches against the flames. She was stuck now. The Soyuz was… _it_ – the last of the _International Space Station_. The history of this place seemed to crackle in the fire.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself. “Okay. Where is it? Undocking…” She slid a red manual from beside the console. “I remember this.” Debbie keyed in the necessary codes and saw a four-minute countdown appear on the screen. The Soyuz rumbled around her; the fire was clearly not backing down. “Oh, you don't have four minutes. Come on…”

Debbie activated the manual release and checked her watch. There were seven minutes left before the debris field that started all this bullshit would be back – seven minutes to be well on her way to the Chinese Station, and then…well, she would cross that bridge when she came to it. Right now, it seemed she had other things to worry about as the whole capsule jolted back, throwing her into the seat. The parachute – the stupid, _useless_ parachute – was going to be the death of her. It was stuck, tangled in the various limbs of the crumbling space station, and effectively preventing her from getting _anywhere_. 

“Come on,” she muttered, trying to pull away again, but the ropes tugged the Soyuz back towards the _ISS_. “Stop, stop, stop.” _Fuck_. She lost track of time as the Soyuz bounced back and forth, pulling against the entangled parachute only to be reeled back in to graze the remains of the station. Gathering her wits, Debbie adjusted the thrusters to a lower setting and pulled away slowly until the parachute ropes were an inch from taut. She breathed deeply again as the Soyuz stilled. She kept the thrusters running on low and looked with contempt at the space suit hanging attached to its battery pack in the corner. She didn’t want to go back out there, but there was no other way. _No other way_. Her watch beeped as she finished strapping herself into the suit and crawled out of the airlock.

“Clear skies with a chance of satellite debris.” _Great._ Debbie climbed steadily to where the parachute was attached. “Okay, we detach this, we go home.” She tried to think about how calm Danny had sounded through everything earlier, mimicking his tone. It seemed to help, and there was – as of yet – no sign of debris. She began the tedious task of detaching the parachute, one bolt after another. One of the tools slid out of her hand, and she reached for it. That’s when she saw it: the debris. One of the solar panels of the _ISS_ shattered before her eyes, and another section visible in the distance, exploded in a globe of sparkling shrapnel.

“ _Shit_.” She took a deep breath, clutching tightly to the Soyuz and trying to focus on removing the last few bolts. The station began to spin, pushed by the wave of debris, and _God_ , she really hated the spinning. She focused on her hands, expecting at any moment for the debris to find her. But it didn’t, and suddenly the Soyuz was free, bobbing away from the _ISS_. “I hate space,” she muttered. “I _hate_ it.” The cockpit was full of alarms and flashing lights as she climbed back in through the hatch. 

“Shut up,” she muttered, muting the sounds. It was cold in here now, and goosebumps rose on her neck. She had removed her helmet to breathe, and her breath was coming out in puffs of steam. Inside the suit, her body felt clammy. But she could see the Chinese station in the distance, and she knew how to position the trajectory. “Houston…” _Lou_. “…in the blind, _Tiangong_ is approximately one hundred kilometers to the west…” She talked herself through the ignition sequence, and _actual_ hope stirred in her chest for the first time since the communication blackout ninety minutes ago. She pressed the thruster ignition, and….and nothing. It was hard to think when it was this cold. She pressed the button again. Nothing.

“Come on…” She tapped the fuel gauge. _No, please no._ The needle slid slowly down to empty. Debbie smashed her hand into the control panel. “No! Don’t you fuck with me!” She kicked the underside of the panel with both feet. “Goddamn piece of shit.” Her body gave up the fight, but she was still breathing heavily, still angry at herself for trying this hard to survive, because each thing that went wrong became an even bigger disappointment.

“Houston,” Debbie choked out as her breathing slowed, fiddling with the radio on the control panel. “ _Houston_ , in the blind. This is Doctor Ocean. I’m currently out of fuel and adrift, do you copy? Houston…” _Lou, Lou, Lou. Oh God,_ Lou _, please hear me._ The sun sank behind the edge of the Earth, and it grew even colder. Her breath was creating frost on the edge of the window. Debbie’s heart leapt as the radio crackled back to her. The words were garbled, or perhaps she just didn’t understand them. And then she heard the dogs. Dogs howling together in a chorus that brought both joy and deadly truth crashing over her.

“They’re calling from Earth,” she muttered, defeated, but with a smile in her voice. She stretched her fingers to keep them warm and wondered if it was cold where the dogs lived down below. “Will you…will you make your dogs bark again?” She tried to bark weakly but wasn’t sure that it sounded much like anything. The man on the other end of the radio seemed to understand, however, and the dogs erupted in a chorus of howls once again. Inhibitions finally falling away, Debbie howled back. She howled until the sound changed to a sob that raked the back of her throat. 

“Oh, I’m gonna die,” she told the man over the radio, and a tear floated away from her eye only to freeze and float in the frigid air of the Soyuz pod. “I know we’re all gonna die…but I’m gonna die _today_. Funny, that…you know…to _know_ …” The man on the radio was singing now, but the dogs still yelped in the background. It was beautiful. “The thing is, it’s that I’m still scared. I’m _really_ scared. Scared nobody will mourn for me because Lou’s been mourning since…Well, I’m _scared_. Will you pray for me?” she asked the man. “Is it too late? I’d say a prayer for myself, but I’ve never prayed in my life…nobody ever taught me, nobody ever tau—” The unmistakable sound of a crying baby echoed through the radio, and Debbie gasped as she heard it. Relief and deep, deep sadness coursed through her veins. It was as though she had been waiting for a sign, something to tell her what to do, and the baby’s cry spoke to her. It was over now. All over. And that was _right_. 

“A baby,” she murmured, “There’s a baby with you…I used to sing to _my_ baby. I hope I see her…soon.” Debbie reached out, shut off the lights, and turned the knob of the oxygen dial. The man was still singing, but the baby was cooing happily now, its soft sounds blending with those of the dogs. “Keep singing,” Debbie said. Her voice was rough and soft. “Sing me to sleep, and I’ll sleep. Keep singing…” Her eyelids felt heavy as lead as the adrenaline finally faded. She was so tired. “Keep singing,” she repeated, though she wasn’t sure if the words were really coming out anymore. “And sing, and sing….and sing…”

There was a flash of light that turned everything behind her eyelids bright red. She opened her eyes, curious in spite of herself. A familiar face was grinning through the porthole of the Soyuz: Danny. _What…?_ He fumbled with the hatch, and Debbie suddenly realized he was trying to get inside, but her helmet was feet away now, floating in a corner. If he came in, she would die, and though that _was_ her plan at this point, she preferred the idea of drifting away in her sleep to the thought of death by exposure to zero PSI and absolute zero temperatures.

“No, no! Don’t!” she yelled, knowing he couldn’t hear her. It was no use. As the door opened, Debbie instinctively covered her face with her hands, as though it would help. She heard the click of the hatch and then pure silence as the capsule was exposed to empty space. _Strange_. Then there was a hissing sound – a _sound_! – and Debbie realized that she was still alive, and there was Danny sitting next to her, removing his helmet. 

“Check your watch!” he said excitedly. “I beat that spacewalking record.”

Debbie just stared at him. It was odd to sit here and actually look at each other with helmets discarded, identical brown eyes sizing each other up.

“Little gloomy, isn’t it?” Danny said as he switched the lights back on.

“How—?”

“It’s a hell of a story.”

“But… _how_ —?”

Danny ignored her questions and cued up his music over the Soyuz radio. “Angels Are Hard to Find” filled the cramped quarters of the module. “Better,” Danny commented with a gesture towards the radio as he settled back in the seat next to her. “Found a little extra battery power, didn’t have _you_ to distract me…I have to say, I’m glad to see you…didn’t think you were gonna make it. Vodka?” He held out a flask. Debbie shook her head. Danny shrugged and took a swig. “Na zdorovje!”

Debbie continued to stare at him, nonplussed. He couldn’t be here. He _couldn’t_. And yet…he _was_.

“Let’s get out of here,” Danny said.

“We can’t,” Debbie said quickly. “There’s no fuel.”

“There’s always something. Did you try the soft-landing jets?”

“They’re for… _landing_. So—”

“—so, you _didn’t_ try _everything_ ,” he interrupted with a grin. “Landing is launching, Debs. Didn’t you learn that?”

“I crashed the simulator _every time_ , Danny. _Every. Time_.” Debbie emphasized the words and felt her voice become slightly louder. She was _tired_ and not in the mood to be patronized, least of all by Danny. 

He turned to look at her with a knitted brow. She looked back at him with defiance. “Listen,” he said, kindlier now, “Do you _want_ to go back, or do you want to stay here?”

Debbie shrugged. She knew she probably seemed petulant, but she didn’t much care. She missed the singing man on the radio and his dogs and his baby. She just wanted to _sleep_. 

“It’s nice up here,” he said, switching off the lights once more. “You can just…shut down all the systems…close your eyes…There’s nobody up here that can hurt you. It’s _safe_. I mean, what’s the point of going on? What’s the point of _living_?”

The words calmed her. _Yes, Danny. Let’s just sleep. You and me, partners in crime one last time, huh?_

“Your kid died,” he said softly.

Debbie blinked at him. _Yeah…_

“Doesn’t get any rougher than that. But still, it’s a matter of what you do _now_. If you decide to go, then you gotta just get on with it…”

 _Yes_. What did he think she had been trying to do?

“Sit back, enjoy the ride…plant both your feet on the ground and start living life.”

 _Oh_. He meant go _home_ , not… _go_. “How did you get here?” she asked, narrowing her eyes skeptically.

“It’s a hell of a story. Hey, Debbie?”

“What?”

“It’s time to go _home_ …”

Debbie blinked her eyes open and cursed her over active imagination. _Of course_ , he hadn’t really been here. Her mind – brilliant, people said – was what had gotten her into this mess to begin with. That’s why they’d called her for this mission, and now her brain wouldn’t even give her the mercy of a peaceful death. Debbie’s lungs burned, and she leaned forward to adjust the oxygen, thinking hard. Danny wanted her to _try_ , that’s what that vision meant, and maybe the fact that _she_ had thought him up…well, maybe that showed that a part of her still wanted to try, too. _Okay_ , Debbie thought, _Let’s do this. Let’s go home_.

 _Landing is launching_ , Danny had said. _Landing is launching_. She slid the green landing manual towards her and flipped through the pages. This could work! This could really work. The temperature in the capsule was still icy, but Debbie kept moving, rotating her wrists and wiggling her fingers.

“You’re a clever son of a bitch, Danny,” she muttered. “Right, okay.” She flexed her fingers and reached towards the control panel. “Okay,” she muttered again. She pressed the button and felt a jolt as the three modules of the Soyuz separated. She exhaled. _Okay_. “Houston, Soyuz has to think we’re three meters off Earth.” Debbie wasn’t sure why she was speaking, but it was better than getting lost in her own thoughts. She understood the physics here, understood the idea that the imaginary Danny had planted in her mind. _Oh, Danny_. He really was dead. She hadn’t accepted it before, but she did now. He had died a hero, doing the thing he loved best in the world. He had saved her, and now he was still helping her to save herself.

“Hey, Danny,” Debbie said, pressing buttons as she perused the landing manual. “I need you to do me a favor. You’re gonna see a little girl with brown hair – very messy, lots of knots. She doesn’t like to brush it. That’s okay. Her name is Sarah. Tell her you’re the coolest uncle in the world, that you’ll take her anywhere she wants to go, even out here – even out to the _stars_. And tell her that Mama found her red shoe, okay? She was so worried about it, Danny, but it was right under the bed.” Debbie pressed a few more buttons. “Give her – give Sarah – a big hug and a big kiss from me, and from her Mama Lou, too. Tell her that Mama misses her – that _we_ miss her. Tell her she…” Debbie felt a lump form in her throat, and her voice trembled. “…she is my _angel_. Tell her she makes me so proud – so, _so_ proud. Tell her…” Debbie saw the screen adjust to her instructions, everything falling into place. “Tell her I’m not quitting. Tell her I _love_ her, Danny. Tell her Lou loves her, too. Tell her _I_ love _Lou_ , and I’m going…going _home_ to tell her that. Tell Sarah, Danny. Tell her we love her _so much_.” Debbie looked up at the ceiling, all wires and panels and lights – nothing cosmic or heavenly up there, but still… “Please, can you do that for me, Danny?” Debbie paused and listened to the whirring of the Soyuz. “Roger that.”

The soft-landing jets ignited – Debbie felt their thrust travel through the entire module, sending her hurtling towards the Chinese station in the distance. She pulled on her helmet and gazed outside. She was approaching fast, and the Chinese station was in trouble. She hoped everyone had evacuated safely because the station was already trembling as it dipped towards Earth. Great pieces of its solar panels were ripped to shreds as they encountered the pressure and gravity of the Earth, falling out of orbit only to shatter and blast in all directions. 

“But not without me,” Debbie muttered, “You’re my last ride.” She clutched the fire extinguisher as she scrambled out of the hatch, careening towards the station in something far less graceful than a straight line. “Steady,” Debbie said to herself, to the fire extinguisher. “Come on…” The thrust of the fire extinguisher was far from precise, and she was spinning again. She kept her head this time, eyes focused on the Chinese station until she had _just_ the right angle…She pulled the trigger again and flew back towards the station, but her hands slipped over the smooth metal exterior. “Damn it,” she yelled. “Down! _Down, down, down_ …” She was pleading with nothing, with no one. She was just _hoping_ , really. And then Debbie saw her hand clasp firmly over the edge of the station, and she held on.

For a split second she hung there, and then she climbed. Hand over hand, foot over foot – just as she had on the _ISS_ about ninety minutes ago, by her watch. _Ninety minutes ago._ Fuck. Debbie had almost forgotten about the debris field. She reached the hatch, but the glittering shrapnel was already thick around the station. The cloud grew thicker as more pieces of _Tiangong_ broke away. At last, Debbie managed to release the airlock, almost letting go of the hatch in her urgency to get inside. The corridors shook as the station plummeted towards the Earth, and Debbie searched desperately for the Shenzhou capsule, knowing she didn’t have much time before the whole station burned to a crisp, just like the _ISS_.

“Shit!” she muttered. “Okay, this way? Fuck. Where are you, Shenzhou?” She kept up a steady stream of questions and curses until she saw a familiar-looking hatch before her. _Okay_ , Debbie thought, pushing herself into the cockpit module _. Let’s do this._ The control panel of the Shenzhou seemed to mock her. “Um…okay.” She didn’t read Chinese. She had six languages at her disposal, but this wasn’t one of them. _Typical_. “Okay,” she muttered again. “Eenie, meenie…” She pressed a few buttons, felt nothing, and tried again. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and she felt sweat beading on her brow. “No hablo Chino,” she whispered, “Könnte es auf Deutsch sein? Min fadhlek? Njet? _Merde._ ”

She pressed another button and a countdown appeared on the screen – the same undocking countdown as the Soyuz. “Okay, good.” Debbie glanced over to the radio by her right hand. “Houston, _Lou_.” She said her name on the record at last, all pride forgotten. “Houston, in the blind. This is Mission Specialist Debbie Ocean reporting from the Shenzhou. I’m about to undock from _Tiangong_ and…and I have a bad feeling about this mission.” The Shenzhou ripped away from the station, hurling itself Earth-wards. “Reminds me of my brother, Lou, but you know that story.” She was yelling now. Outside the windows she could see the sky lightening as the atmosphere closed in around her. Inside, the temperature was rising rapidly. “It’s getting hot in here,” she commented. “The way I see it,” she continued, “there’s only two possible outcomes. Either I make it down there in one piece, and I have one hell of a story to tell, or I burn up in the next ten minutes. Either way…no harm, no foul!” She knew Lou would laugh at that, and she very nearly laughed at herself. “Either way…it’ll be one hell of a ride…I’m ready!”

Debbie pulled her helmet on and reached out to activate the module separation. Sparks flew from wires above her, and the control panel itself was beginning to smoke. Debbie wondered how long it would take for her hair or skin to do the same, but it didn’t matter now. There was daylight outside – actual _daylight_ – and blue sky. She gripped the sides of the seat and felt a scream tear at her throat. An alert flashed across the screen on the control panel, telling her that the parachute had deployed, and _holy shit_ , she might actually make it. Fuck, she hadn’t expected that.

“Shenzhou, in the blind, this is _Houston_!” Lou’s voice had never sounded so sweet, _so_ sweet. Debbie tried to respond, but her voice wasn’t working. All she could do was listen and fall. “Our radars detect you on a reentry trajectory. If you copy, please confirm identity.”

 _Oh, Lou_ , Debbie thought as she tried and failed to speak once more. _It’s me! It’s Debbie. Oh, God._ Clouds flashed by outside.

“This is Houston…”

Water filled all her vision outside the windows, and the capsule…the capsule _stopped_. She was floating again, this time in some body of water. She was… _home_. The control panel was spilling acrid smoke into the module, and Debbie coughed as she removed her helmet. She couldn’t die now, oh no. No, that would be _too_ cruel, to _sloppy_ of the Universe. She hung on every word pouring from the radio.

“We’ve deployed a rescue mission to retrieve you. Rescue mission is on the way. Shenzhou, in the blind, this is Houston. We’ve deployed a rescue mission to retrieve y—” Debbie opened the hatch, and Lou’s words were muffled by the water that poured through it. The force of the wave pressed Debbie against the far wall of the pod. She struggled, filling her lungs with air before ducking below the surface and pushing herself towards the hatch.

The spacesuit weighed her down, and she shook it off, swimming with the last of her adrenaline towards the surface through weeds that towered up from the bottom of the – was this a lake? She could see sunlight above her, refracted through the water – the most beautiful sight Debbie had ever seen. Her head broke through the surface, and she gulped in the air. It tasted strange after a week of carefully calibrated artificial life support – strange and _wonderful_. The air was warm, but not hot. Her muscles ached. She could see the lakeshore less than fifty yards away, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

Trusting to the gentle current to carry her body to shore, Debbie lay back and took deep breaths, staring up at the sky. The remains of the Shenzhou flashed past high above her. How strange it was to be lying here, weightless in the water the same way zero-G was weightless. People must know by now, she thought. The Internet must have been down for hours, but news always spread fast in emergencies. _Good time to rob a bank,_ she thought wryly, and then laughed. That was an echo of the past Debbie Ocean – of the _real_ Debbie Ocean – shining through, and it felt a bit like receiving a letter from an old friend. She wondered if any satellites had escaped the debris field, if any stations were still operational. She wondered if there were any other survivors who – like her – had made it back against all odds. Reeds bent in front of her vision; she had reached the shallows. With an enormous effort, she turned over and felt the muddy ground beneath her along the length of her entire body. She crawled to the shore and rested her cheek against the damp, sandy ground. This was pain such as she had never experienced before – deep and present and alive.

“Thank you,” she murmured, crumbling a handful of thick sand under her palm. Debbie didn’t know how long she lay there, but eventually some part of her needed to move – to try out Danny’s idea of living with both her feet on the ground. She tried to push herself onto her knees, but her arms gave way. She shook her head and laughed humorlessly. “No,” she told her body, and she tried again. This time, she made it to her knees, and then – one foot after the other – to her feet. _I made it, Danny_ , Debbie thought as she walked unsteadily away from the water. Lou had said – _Houston_ had said – that there was a rescue mission on the way. There was nothing to do but wait, and so she would. She would sit here and breathe, Debbie thought, and she would feel the solid ground beneath her feet. And it would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting chapter one of part two over next weekend! Stay tuned :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Kudos and comments make me very happy!


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